


Life and How to Live It

by c00kie



Category: Parks and Recreation
Genre: Baby Fic, F/M, Porn, Romance, Tattooed Ben, canon AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-30
Updated: 2014-02-06
Packaged: 2017-12-28 00:26:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/985447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/c00kie/pseuds/c00kie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ben is a lonely budget analyst at a government party. Leslie is the woman in the red cocktail dress he can't stop starting at. Or, the one where a drunken, yet romantic encounter spirals out of control and becomes something more. Set sometime mid season 2.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Ash, for her support and handy beta skills.

Ben's on his fourth miniscule crab puff and his second beer when he sees her from across the room. She's wearing a red cocktail dress and drinking a pink martini while she laughs at something his colleague, Bill, says. Ben's watching from across the room, pretending to listen to Chris. He can't hear what they're saying, but he's pretty sure Bill's telling her about the time he caught a fish that pulled him from his boat. The man next to her, the one with the thick mustache, says something and just by happenstance she looks over in Ben's direction. 

Their eyes meet from across the room. She smiles and a wave of warmth rolls through him that he can't blame on his one and a half beers. He smiles back. He's always hated that damn woman in red song, but now he gets it. Good lord, does he get it. 

He's about to go up to her to introduce himself when Chris puts his hands on his shoulder and says, "Oh Ben, I want you to meet someone," and forces Ben to turn so he's now looking a moderately attractive brunette. "This is Rebecca Salinger."

"Uh, hello." 

"No relation," she says, shaking Ben's hand. She must read Ben's confusion because she says, "to the author."

"Oh," Ben laughs even though he doesn't think it's all that funny. "I get it. Haha." 

"Rebecca here works for the transportation board in Greenwood," Chris says, beaming, "isn't that wonderful? Well I see sparks are flying already so I'm going to leave you two alone. Have fun!" 

Ben inwardly winces as Chris walks off. "So. Transportation. That's interesting."

Five minutes into talking to Rebecca, he is pretty sure that he has died, gone to hell, and his punishment is to listen to the world's most boring woman while she talks about her job. It's not like Ben can say being a budget specialist is all that exciting, but listening to Rebecca talk about the bus system is nothing short of painful. It's nothing more than a reminder of why he hates these functions. He looks over to see if he can catch the blonde woman's eye again, but all he sees are a bunch of men in suits. 

Somehow a miracle happens and Rebecca is swept away by a middle aged woman who looks like she's on her third facelift insisting she meet someone. Ben sighs in relief and takes a final sip of his beer before going to the bar to get something stronger.

"Vodka tonic."

He puts a few ones into the tip jar after he gets his drink and turns around, only to see the woman in red across the room. He downs his beverage, slams it down on the bar and starts over to her, determined to introduce himself. 

"Ben Wyatt!" 

Ben stops and pastes a smile on his face as his boss comes up to him. "Hi, Mitch."

Mitch wraps one of his thick arms around Ben's shoulders. "You having fun yet, Ben?"

"I'm doing alright." He wishes he were in a hotel room, looking over budgets and expense reports, not here, where the hors d'oeuvres aren't even any good and the woman in red is once again out of sight.

"Glad to hear it." 

Ben prays Mitch doesn't have someone he needs to meet. "I have someone you need to meet."

"Great," he says, glancing at the woman as Mitch leads him to meet yet another bureaucrat. 

The evening continues to drag. He's introduced to several people, none of whom are her. And on any other night he might be interested in what they have have to say, but all he can think about is her smile and the creaminess of her skin and the way her blonde curls would feel through his fingers. He wonders what her name is and who her favorite president is. He bets it would be Jefferson. She looks like the kind of woman who would love Jefferson. 

Ben grabs a glass of wine off a tray as a waiter walks by. He knows he's going to wake up with the worst hangover tomorrow but still he downs it, walks past Chris who tries to flag him down and heads to the coat check to retrieve his coat. 

She's there. His heart stops for a moment and he momentarily forgets what day it is, but then his brain kicks in and he somehow manages to walk up to her. 

"It's the blue one." She points to a long blue coat behind the attendant. 

"Are you leaving?" Ben instantly winces at his own question. Of course she's leaving, idiot, she's getting her coat, his internal dialogue helpfully supplies. 

She turns around and yes, he's kind of buzzed, but she's even more beautiful up close. 

"Yes?"

"Yeah, I uh, yeah sorry. Of course you are. I am too."

Her laugh is like music to his ears. "Oh, you mean you weren't riveted by Rebecca no relation Salinger's epic tale of designing bus routes?" 

"I have never been more bored in my life." 

"That's too bad. I found her fascinating the first time I met her. Unfortunately I think her bus routes are all she ever talks about," she laughs again, slipping on her coat. "I'm Leslie Knope." 

"Ben Wyatt."

"Well, Ben Wyatt, are you hungry?"

The question makes his stomach clench in response. "I could eat. Just let me get my coat. There's a 24 hour diner not too far from here." 

Her smile could light up an entire city after a blackout.

He learns on the way that she's the deputy director of the parks and recreation department of Pawnee, Indiana, the greatest city in the world, her words. He's heard of Pawnee in the context of, "It's near Bloomington" and "overrun by raccoons" but he decides not to argue with her assertion. 

They look out of place at the diner but apart from a few stares when they walk in, no one really pays them any mind after they sit down, taking off their coats and in Ben's case, his suit jacket. He rolls up his sleeves and doesn't miss the hitch in her breath or the way she stares at his tattoos. He's used to the staring, the way people frown at them when he rolls up his sleeves, the judgmental comments behind his back when they think he can't hear. Leslie's not looking at them with disdain though, but rather thoughtful curiosity. 

Leslie doesn't bother to look at her menu. It takes Ben a minute to decide what he wants, but once their waiter comes back he's ready to order. 

"Waffles with extra whip cream."   
"Denver omelet, thanks."

"White or wheat toast?"

"Wheat." 

The waiter walks away and Leslie leans back against the red pleather booth. "So, Ben. What is it you do?"

He watches her pour a good third of the sugar into her coffee. "I'm a budget analyst."

"Oh. So you're one of those guys who goes around slashing and burning cities budgets." 

Ben sighs. "I like to think of it more as helping them get back on their feet after they screw themselves, but yeah sometimes it takes a little slashing and burning to do that." He hears the words as they come out like the excuses they are, watches as her smile falls. "I'm blowing this aren't I?"

Her arms cross over her chest. "Yes."

Ben takes sip of his coffee while he tries to think of a way to salvage things before she makes up her mind to walk out on him. But before he can their food arrives and she's digging into her waffles and for a second it feels like things might be okay but then she stops eating and looks at him. 

"You're not eating."

He looks down at his omelet. It looks perfectly fine, but he no longer has any interest in eating it. Still, he takes a bite just to satisfy Leslie and then he forces himself to eat the rest. 

When their plates are clear the waiter picks them up and tells them to pay the cashier up front. "I'm getting this," Leslie says, taking the ticket. He follows her up to the cashier, carrying his coat on his arm, wishing he could go back in time and change, well pretty much every decision he's ever made. But mostly he wishes he could stop himself from being stupid tonight.

He says a quick thank you to the cashier after she wishes them a good night and walks out after Leslie. It's cold enough that Ben can see his breath so he slips his coat back on, the meal and the chill sobering him up completely.

"Where do you live?" she asks, jangling her keys in her hand. 

"I don't. I usually stay with a friend when I'm here." 

To Ben's surprise, Leslie laughs. "Oh, so you're a vagabond."

"I wouldn't-"

"You are." She pokes him in the chest with her finger. "You wander around the state, ruining people's lives. You're like the music man!"

"I'm not a con man, Leslie."

"Are you sure about that?" 

"I'm sure I think you're beautiful." To his own ears it sounds like the last plea from a desperate man trying to get into a girl's pants, but for whatever reason it seems to work on Leslie because her face softens.

"This isn't something I normally do."

Ben smiles as she takes a step closer. "I didn't think so."

She runs his lapel through her fingers. "And you're a jerk." 

"Yeah, I got that," he says and she leans up and kisses him. It's over before he can react, but as she steps back he comes to his senses and closes the gap between them once more. 

A short time later, Ben's following Leslie through the maze of hallways to her hotel room. It takes all of his control not to just pick her up and make out with her against the wall, but he keeps his hands to himself until they reach her room. 

Once inside, she reaches behind his shoulder and pushes the door shut. He raises an eyebrow and she smirks back. 

"Are you going to stand there all night or are you going to kiss me?"

He thinks about continuing the banter, but kissing her sounds like a better idea so he does that, cupping her head as he pushes his lips against hers. Her hands push off his coat and jacket and he follows her lead, taking her coat off without breaking the kiss. 

It's Leslie though that pulls him onto the bed, who un-tucks his shirt, and starts to reach for his buckle. 

"Hey," Ben says, grabbing her wrist. "We've got all night, we don't need to rush this."

She looks like she wants to argue with him, so he flips them over and pins her hands down while he slowly kisses her. 

He stands up, takes his shirt off and smiles down at Leslie. Her hair is sprawled out behind her, her skin flushed, her smile sly. He lifts her right leg, her toes barely touching his chest and presses a kiss to her ankle. 

"Don't tell me you have a foot fetish."

Ben laughs, smoothes his hands down her leg from her foot to her knee, feeling skin and muscle and bone. Then he pulls off her pump and tosses it behind him. 

"I'm ticklish."

"Really." Ben runs his finger down the sole of her foot, making her giggle and her leg to jerk but he keeps her in place. "You have nice feet."

"I get a manipedi with my friend Donna once a week." Her eyes close when he applies pressure, knowing her feet must be sore. "Aah."

"Good?"

"Good." She sighs, smiling still. "Just don't do anything weird. No licking or toe sucking."

Ben laughs again. "What about here?" he asks, pressing his lips to her calf and pulling on the skin. Her breath hitches. "Or this?" He runs his tongue up her leg to her knee. 

"Oh my god." 

"Is it okay?"

She nods, giving silent consent and Ben puts her leg down, trading it for the other. 

He can't resist the urge to look down her leg at her. Her panties are caramel colored silk with lace trim. He wants to trace the outline of her with his tongue, feel the wet silk with his fingers but he isn't going to rush this.

Ben sits on his knees in front of her, gesturing for her to sit up. He kisses her again. He only means for it to be a short kiss but her lips are far too addicting to stay away from. One minute soon becomes five, and the only reason he stops is because his lips are becoming sore. 

Instead he brings her to his chest and leans down to kiss her shoulders. "Leslie?" 

"Mmm?" 

"Would it be okay if I removed your dress?"

She looks at him then, and he swears her blue eyes are searching his soul. "Are you asking for my consent?"

"Yeah, well, I know it seems kind of silly but I just wanted to--" Whatever he was going to say becomes unintelligible nonsense as she crushes her mouth to his, her hand pulling on the back of his head to bring him even closer. "Wow," he says when it it ends. "So um, about that dress?"

Leslie giggles, shifts her legs so she's sitting on her knees and leans forward, allowing Ben to reach behind her and unzip her. He trails his nails down her back as her skin is revealed, feeling her shiver at his touch. Without a word, she raises her arms, allowing him to pull her dress off. 

The sight of her, in nothing but her bra and panties, makes Ben stop and stare, still holding the red dress in his hand, wanting to commit her to memory.

"Are you going to keep objectifying me or are you going to take your pants off?"

Ben grins against her lips, throwing her dress onto the floor before standing up to take his pants off. 

Then she grabs his arm and pulls him down onto the bed, crashing their mouths together. The kiss slows though and all Ben can think of is how good she tastes and how soft her skin is as he runs his fingers up and down her sides. He breaks the kiss and starts studying her body with his lips, kissing a path down her neck and across her shoulder. He takes her other hand, clasping their fingers together as he kisses his way down her other arm, tasting the salt and lotion until he gets to her fingers. 

"Stop teasing me."

Ben looks down at her face, takes in the red flush in her cheeks and her kiss plumped lips and meets her eyes with his own. "What would you like, Leslie Knope?"

"Touch me."

"I am touching you." To illustrate his point, Ben runs his fingernails up and down her hips. "See?

Leslie rolls her eyes. "My breasts," she says, her voice carrying a slight whimper. "Touch my breasts."

Ben does what she asks, bringing his hands up her stomach, taking the cloth covered breasts into his palms. They feel exquisite, soft and heavy as he squeezes them in his palms. 

Her back arches as she lets out a gasp of pleasure that sends a wave of heat through Ben. Her hands clutch his shoulders, rub down his back and take hold of his butt, urging him closer. Her legs circle him, holding him tight against her causing him to groan into her mouth. 

Ben tugs her bra down, kissing his way down her chest to the space between her breasts. He peppers both with kisses, taking one into his mouth and sucking the nipple, rolling his tongue around it while he caresses the other breast with one hand. His other hand travels down between her legs, tracing her through the wet silk of her panties.

Needing to feel more of her, he slips his fingers underneath the fabric. She's so slick and soft that his own skin feels like it's burning up. He moves back to her lips, kissing them while he snakes two fingers inside.

"Ugh."

He stops his motions. "Um, ugh? Am I doing something wrong?"

"Yes. You're being too slow. I want you to fuck me already." 

Ben can't stop the shiver that runs through him. "Leslie--"

"That's it," she says and before Ben knows what's happening, she's pushing him over and straddling his waist. "I let you get away with that because you're cute, but it's my turn now."

"Your turn?" He wants to ask what that means but it turns out he doesn't have to because she's sliding down between his legs and pulling his boxers over his cock and down, taking him into her mouth without any fanfare whatever.

Ben squeezes his eyes shut at the way her mouth glides over him, the way her tongue swirls around the head. It's close to bliss but what he wants, more than anything, is to taste her, to bury himself in her and feel her nails scratch down his back. 

She lets him go and he can only watch as she removes her panties revealing the wet curls underneath. She also removes her bra, tossing it aside. 

"Wait. Before we do this, is there anything I should know about?" 

"Nope. You?" 

"Nope. Condom?"

"In my wallet." 

She leans over the bed, giving Ben the perfect view of her ass. He sits up on his knees and runs his hands over the creamy soft flesh and up her back. She moans at his touch and for a moment he thinks about massaging her, of kneading her muscles in his hands until all of her tension is gone.

But she sits up before he can put that thought into reality, holding up the foil packet. "Let's do this. Lay down." Leslie pushes his shoulder until he lies down on his back, watching with lidded eyes as she rips open the foil packet and rolls the condom on. 

"I'm on the pill too," she says, straddling him, "but I don't think you can be too careful." 

Ben groans his agreement, but really he's beyond thought now that she's slowly lowering herself down on him, her inner walls squeezing him tight as she sighs with pleasure. She gives him a smile that he returns. She traces his starfleet insignia before bracing her hands on his chest, leaning forward to kiss him. It's slow, like the way she moves her hips, rolling them back and forth to create a friction he can feel deep within his bones. 

He reaches up, runs his hands up her stomach to hold her breasts, teasing the nipples with his fingers. Leslie leans back and he takes in her body, shiny with sweat like his own. He thrusts up, meeting her movements and matching her speed. When she leans forward again, this time to pull on his bottom lip and to slowly caress his tongue with hers, Ben wraps his arm around her and rolls them over. He kisses her as her legs circle around his back, allowing him to rock into her while his face is buried in her neck, tasting salt and skin and wishing this could last forever. 

The realization hits him like a piano dropped from a highrise. He doesn't want this to be just a one night stand. He wants to go on actual dates with her, to meet her friends, to visit Pawnee and figure out what makes it so special. He wants to call her on the road after he's had a bad day and listen to her voice. He wants to make her watch Star Wars and tell her about Ice Town.

"You stopped." 

"I think I might be falling in love with you."

Leslie laughs, but it's not at him, no, her eyes are too full of delight. "I bet you say that to all the girls."

"No, just you," he says, moving her hair off her face. "But if it's any consolation I kind of wish I hadn't said it."

"Don't." She presses her lips against his. 

They move together, Leslie urging him to go faster. He does, wanting to give her what she wants. It's not long before he can feel her walls clench around him, making his own body tighten, aching for release. 

She cries out, his name falling off her lips like a prayer that he reciprocates as he comes. 

Ben wants to stay inside her forever, but knowing he can't, he slides out of her and with one more kiss, stands up and walks into the bathroom to clean up. 

When he comes back, she's sitting on the bed waiting for him. She stands up, walking past him and shutting the bathroom door without a word. 

He's never felt more awkward in his life. He pulls on his boxers and reaches for his pants, unsure if he should put them on or not. 

"You're not leaving are you?" The question is garbled and accompanied by a buzzing sound so Ben turns around, still holding his pants. She's wearing a tee shirt that's seen better days that reaches her thighs and she's brushing her teeth with a sonicare toothbrush. 

He drops the pants. "No." 

Leslie smiles around the toothbrush and steps back into the bathroom. He hears her spit into the sink, followed by the faucet running as she rinses the sink out. She returns, smiling. "I'm sorry, I don't have an extra toothbrush. I think I can get one from the front desk though."

He sits next to her on the bed, their fingers barely touching as she uses the room phone to call and ask for a toothbrush and a razor and men's shaving cream. When she hangs up they sit in silence. He wants to know what she's thinking, but he can't bring himself to form the words. 

"What are we doing here, Leslie?" 

"I don't know," she says, "we're-" Whatever she's about to say is interrupted by a knock at the door. "That's your toothbrush." 

Being the one clothed, Leslie answers the door and tips the young man who hands the toiletries in a plastic bag. 

"I'll put these in the bathroom," she says after shutting the door. 

"Cool."

Later, they're lying in the bed, their legs tangled, the space between them almost non existent as they share soft kisses and light touches. 

"What was your first?" 

He lifts his left arm to show her the black and grey Yoda on his forearm. "This guy." 

She runs her finger over it. "Why him?"

"I was having what one might call a crisis. I needed guidance." The truth was he was running on guilt, self loathing and a bottle of Captain Morgan's when he walked into Jax's tattoo parlor. It wasn't until the next day when he woke up and saw the bandage on his arm that he remembered even getting it. Really he just counts himself lucky it turned out good. 

Leslie nods, her smile kind as she leans down to kiss the top of Yoda's head. Ben's heart jumps and he finds himself blurting out, 

"Have you ever heard of a town called Partridge, Minnesota?"

She looks up, her eyes meeting his and she nods. "Benji Wyatt."

"Yeah." 

She traces her thumb over his jaw. "I had the biggest crush on you. I had your picture on my wall."

He doesn't know what to say to that, so he kisses her, letting his emotions spill out through his lips as they caress hers. 

When they break apart, she points to his inner right wrist. "What's this?" 

"That's the Settlers of Catan emblem."

Her eyes widen and a slow, "Wow," is shaped by her lips. "Nerd," she says with affection, seeking out his lips. "Turn over, please." 

He does, lying on his stomach with his head turned so he can look at her. She sits on her knees and traces each letter on the tattoo on the center of his back, singing it softly. 

_"There's the progress_

We have found a way to talk around the problem

Building towers

Foresight isn't anything at all."

"R.E.M?" 

He smiles and laughs. "Yeah." 

She lies back down and leans her forehead against his. "Did you buy the sky and sell the sky?" she asks, her breath ghosting across his face. 

"Okay now I definitely know I love you," he says and she closes the distance, pulling him on top of her. He wants to fuck her again, but when he asks about a condom, she says there's only a cotton candy flavored one in her purse. He doubts its effectiveness, so instead he licks and bites and mouths his way down to bury his face between her legs, to fuck her with his tongue until she's writhing on the bed, her fingers pulling on the bed sheets and all he can taste is her tangy sweetness, unable to get enough.

Eventually though, she pulls him up and he slides into her, bare. He doesn't think about the consequences, or if he does they seem rather insignificant. He searches her eyes for doubt, but she leans up and captures his bottom lip with her teeth and he forgets to be worried.

"It's late," he says, looking at the clock. His eyes are fluttering shut, unable to stay open. "Don't you have to drive back tomorrow?"

"Ron's driving. Besides, I don't want to fall asleep." It's punctuated with a yawn though.

He smiles, understanding her meaning completely. "Good night, Leslie Knope." He kisses her once more, closes his eyes and eventually falls asleep.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When we last left our heroes they had spent the night together after meeting at a charity ball. In this installment, Leslie and Ben continue their new relationship and finds out some very surprising news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ashley continues to be a beautiful pufferfish. Thanks to everyone who left kudos!

On Monday Leslie receives her first text from Ben. It's a simple, "Hey you," but when she reads it she hears him saying it to her in her ear, all rough and low, sending shivers down her spine. His hands coming up her sides and-

She stops that train of thought and sends him, "HIIIIIIIII!!!!!!!!" 

It takes him a while to reply. She imagines him in some building a lot like hers, in a small office with his partner, hacking up people's budgets. She frowns, not wanting to think of Ben as that guy.   
Her phone buzzes again. "Sorry for the delay what are you doing on Friday?" 

"Nothing," she texts back. 

"I'm going to be close. Want to get together?"

She stares at the message. Despite his declaration of love and assurances that he would see her again, it still comes as a surprise. Butterflies flutter in her stomach at the thought of seeing Ben again. Of kissing Ben, of being under him, on top of him, next to him. Her hands shake as she types. "Yes."

-

He calls her Tuesday night. It's impossible not to imagine Ben sitting next to her on her couch, a beer in one hand, the other resting on her leg, his fingers lightly tickling her skin. Leslie settles for his voice, and even though the conversation isn't sexy, desire heats her, making her need to cross her legs to relieve the tension.

"Mmhm," she says when there's a pause, so he doesn't think she's ignoring him. 

"Am I boring you?" Ben asks. He sounds amused though, so she smiles.

"Nope. Just the opposite."

"Just the...oh." 

"I'm sorry," she says, even though she's not. "I really do care about your brother-"

"I was telling you about my work partner Chris, but same thing I guess. Although my real brother doesn't make me run ten miles with him every morning."

"Ew."

"That's what I say," Ben says, "but it keeps me in shape so I can't complain I guess." 

Thinking about Ben's body does nothing to help her situation. "Yeah."

"What are you thinking about?" He says it with a slight lilt, like he already knows the answer. 

"How I want to eat ice cream off your tummy." She cringes at her use of the word tummy. 

There's a slight pause and she's sure he's probably agreeing with her that tummy is not a sexy word, but then she hears him say, "Tell me about it."

Oh god. She has no idea what she's supposed to say. Phone sex has never been in her repertoire. Sure, she can talk during sex, but to describe it over the phone? Nope. "Um, well, your stomach is flat." She pauses to mentally congratulate herself on not using the word tummy. "And I like ice cream." 

"I know you do," he says.

"So it's only natural that I would want to." 

"To eat ice cream off me."

She swallows. God she's bad at this. "Yes."

"What if it starts to melt?" He's trying to help her. She doesn't know if she's grateful or insulted. She goes with grateful. 

"I would chase it with my tongue." It's the truth. She'd lie between his legs, press her fingers into his sides and chase every last drop of ice cream, the sweet chocolate mixed in with the salt of his skin, it would be heaven.

"Good lord, Leslie. Do you know what you do to me?"

The way he says it, it sounds like Ben is talking about way more than just arousal. It should freak her out.   
They've only just met, his job tears peoples lives apart, and he's kind of a jerk, but no one has ever looked at her the way he does or made her laugh the way he does, and the scariest thing of all is how much she wants to be the person he thinks she is. She wants to talk to him every night about his day and watch movies next to him on the sofa and play those stupid board games with him and it's almost too much. 

"I can't wait until Friday," Leslie says, instead of what she's really thinking. 

"Me neither."   
-  
"What about this one?" Leslie asks, holding a skirt to her waist. 

Ann looks at it and sighs. "Leslie, we've talked about this. You can't wear a tulip skirt."

Leslie huffs and puts the skirt back and walks over to a rack of dresses to look through it. Ann follows her and they start going through it. 

"What are you looking for?" Ann asks.

"I don't know," Leslie stops at a pink dress before pushing it aside. "Something cute and sexy, that says I'm a smart, capable, independent woman so please rip this off and ravish me." 

When Ann doesn't respond, Leslie looks up to see her grinning ear to ear. "What?" 

"You really like this guy, don't you?"

Leslie doesn't know why, but Ann's question makes her queasy. Everything with Ben is so new and they barely know each other, and the last time she fell in love so fast he turned out to be married and weird, and how does   
Leslie know Ben doesn't have a girlfriend in every city in Indiana? 

Ann narrows her green eyes at Leslie. "Leslie, you're spiraling."

Realizing she's said her thoughts out loud, Leslie puts her face in her hands and lets out a sob. 

"Leslie, from everything you've told me it sounds like he really likes you. And you really like him, so you just need to relax and enjoy it."

Leslie openly gapes at her best friend. Relax? Enjoy it? These are not words in Leslie's vocabulary.

-

By the time Friday night comes, Leslie feels like she's coming out of her skin. At five thirty she drives home. At five forty five she takes a shower and shaves her legs. At six she puts on the pants and the scoop neck blouse she and Ann picked out. She puts her make up on, curls her hair, looks at herself in the mirror and takes a deep breath that doesn't do anything to help her anxiety one bit. 

He's barely in her front door when she pulls him inside by his tie, kissing him hard. Ben doesn't object, dropping his bag on the floor and tangling his fingers in her hair. 

"Bedroom," she says, and somehow they make it up the stairs.

"Lay down," she says, pushing his shoulders until his head hits her pillow and he grins up at her as she straddles him and makes work of his buttons. He sits up long enough to peel his over shirt and white tshirt off and then lays back down.

"What are you planning on doing, Ms. Knope?"

"Explore." Leslie doesn't move though, content for the moment to just study Ben with her eyes. His hair is sticking out in all directions because of her pulling on it during their kiss, his eyes are dark but unguarded as he waits for her to make her move. His lips are shiny and plump, begging to be kissed again, but she doesn't.

She reaches forward and runs her thumb across his jaw, feeling the hard bone beneath his scruff. His eyes close so she does it again, wanting to memorize every angle of his handsome face.

"Are you just going to feel up my face or are you going anywhere else in this exploration of yours?"  
Leslie laughs and replies by scratching her nails down his neck and over his shoulders. He's slight but she can feel bone and muscle as she runs her hands down his arms, over his tattoos and to his hands. His large, skilled hands that took her apart.

It's only fair she does the same for him. She runs her fingers down his chest, brushes her thumbs across his nipples, making him hitch a breath. She revels in the hardness of his ribs and the smoothness of his belly.   
She leans forward and presses her lips to his ever so slightly until he begins to kiss her back, then she pulls away and sits back up. 

"You're teasing me."

"I'm not done yet." She moves off his lap to the space between his legs. 

"You want me to take off my pants?"

"Not yet," she says, placing her hand on his stomach and counting the rise and fall of it with each breath.

Instead her own breath hitches when she comes to the startling realization that it would be all too easy to fall in love with him. She's already half way there, not that she's ready to admit it. 

"Would you ever get someone's name?" she asks, circling his belly button. She shakes her head, weirded out by her own question. 

"Uh, maybe?" He looks equally bewildered by her question. "I think I'd get my kid's name. If I ever had one."  
Leslie stills. "Do you want one?"

"Yeah, sure. Do you?"

Talk of kids should make this feel more real than it already does, but when she pictures Ben with a baby, possibly their baby, it fills her with warmth and something very close to peace. She nods, just once. "Yeah."

He gives her a look, this soft, all too caring look that makes her insides feel like they're melting and even though she still wants to tear him apart piece by piece, the urge to go crazy on him is suddenly too much. She smashes her mouth against his, teeth clashing and noses bumping hard but despite the sting all she can really feel and taste is Ben, who kisses her back with equal fervor. 

"Okay," she says, sitting back up, "pants off, now."

"I knew you wouldn't last," Ben laughs, but he's lifting his hips and pushing his jeans and boxers down and at the sight of his cock springing free, all long and red and shiny at the tip, she says, "screw it," and lays down and traces the vein from the base to the head with her tongue. Tasting salt and the hint of soap, she rolls her tongue around the head before taking him completely into her mouth. 

"Good lord."

Okay, maybe she can't be slow like him, but she can still make him come undone. She takes in every hitch of breath, every moan, cataloguing them and using them to her advantage, adjusting her speed and technique depending on his reactions. 

"Les."

She looks up at him, moving her lips up and down his shaft with slow and wet precision. Just the feel of him in her mouth is enough to make her wet and aching for him. 

His eyes are squeezed shut. "Want to come inside you."

Leslie lets him go with a soft pop, wanting that too. She straddles him again, leaning forward to kiss him, slow and dirty, just like she intends to fuck him. 

"Fuck."

"Good plan." She impales herself on his cock, her eyes closing as she adjusts to him. He lets out a slow breath and then he gives her this slow easy smile that makes her heart jump. She reaches forward and laces her fingers with his, squeezing as she rolls her hips. 

Needing more leverage, Leslie drops his hands and places her hands on his chest, over his insignia and leans forward, thrusting down as he comes up to meet hers in perfect synchronization. His heart beats under his hot skin, giving Leslie something to concentrate on as she climbs. 

But then he growls and flips them over, covering her with his taut body, kissing her with a raw passion that makes the room feel like it's spinning. She knows she should be mad he's taken control, but it's impossible when his lips are everywhere on her skin, covering her with wet hot kisses. 

And then he gets on his knees and lifts her legs over his shoulders and slides back inside her. Every thrust hard and quick, making her come off the bed. Her orgasm hits her like a flash the force of it completely unexpected. She pulls at the skin on his back as he plants kisses all over her face. He comes with a soft grunt and rolls off her, taking her with him so they're side by side, their foreheads resting against each other. 

They spend the weekend together, watching movies and snuggling on the couch, making out on the couch, having sex on the couch, napping on the couch, working side by side on the couch until he has to leave Sunday night.  
He calls every day at lunch and after six like clockwork. Sometimes they talk for her full lunch hour, sometimes only for a few minutes, but no matter how long or short, she always leaves the conversation with a smile. 

"What's wrong with you?" April asks as Leslie walks past her desk to get to the coffee machine.

"Nothing," Leslie answers as she pours the sugar into her cup. "It's just a beautiful day."

"She's dating someone," Donna says.

Leslie laughs but can't hide her blush even as she tries to glare at Donna, who shrugs.

Tom gasps. "Who is it?" 

"I met him at that party in Indianapolis," Leslie says with a wistful sigh. "He works for the state government."

"So a nerd." 

"Nerd or not, you should keep this one. Well sexed is a good look for you.  
-  
"What are you doing on next Friday?" Ben asks when he calls at lunch. 

"Let me check," she says, opening her planner, "you said next Friday?" She doesn't think she has anything planned but it's always good to make sure. "Nothing," she says looking at the blank square. "Should I pencil you in?"

"Mmm, yeah. I'm going to be near Pawnee, and I've heard from a little bird there's a great diner that serves the world's best waffles."

"Is that so?" Leslie laughs, writing Ben's name in giant letters inside next Friday's box. She's about to close it when something catches her eye. A tiny doodle of a monster waving at her. She looks at the date on her computer and back to the planner, double checking that the date's coincide. "Crap in a canyon!"

"What's wrong?"

"Um, nothing, just a uh oh no what's that, Tom? I have to go talk to you later bye!" She hangs up and runs out of her office, hearing Tom mutter a, "Crazy" behind her. 

She buys every pregnancy test at the drugstore and then drives straight to Ann's house. Ann answers the door blurry eyed and Leslie feels bad since Ann's sleeping off a double shift but she needs her best friend right now. 

"Leslie? It's one thirty why aren't you at work?"

Leslie holds up the plastic bag. "I think I'm pregnant."

"Get in here," Ann says, grabbing Leslie's hand and pulling her into her house. "Are you sure?" 

"Pretty sure," Leslie answers as she sits down on Ann's couch. "I'm late and the math adds up and oh god." She puts her head in her hands. "What am I going to do?"

"Well the first thing you're going to do is take a deep breath. Have you taken a test yet?"

Leslie points at the bag on the floor. "I'm too chicken to take one by myself."

Ann picks up the bag and rifles through it. "Did you buy one of each brand?"

"I thought it best to be thorough." 

Ann sighs and picks one. Leslie doesn't ask if it's random or carefully chosen as her best friend rips the box open and hands her the test. "Go, take this one." 

"Should I take more?" 

Ann squints at her. "Start with this one."

Ten minutes later and she's standing in Ann's bathroom with her, their arms wrapped around each other's backs as they look at the pregnancy test in Leslie's hand. "Would you say that's a line?"

"It looks like a line, yes."

Leslie stares down at the very obvious line in the tiny window of the test and lets out a deep breath. 

"You can take another one in an hour, but these have a ninety nine percent accuracy. We use them at the hospital." 

So it wasn't just chosen at random. "Okay." 

Somehow Ann guides her into her bedroom and sits her on the bed. Leslie's aware she's shaking, unable to look at anything other than the test. 

She's having a baby. Inside her, right now, is a tiny little embryo that is going to grow for the next forty weeks and become a tiny little person who will have wants and needs and opinions and goals and aspirations and it makes Leslie's heart feel like it's about to burst. She's only known for a matter of minutes and she's already crazy in love with her future child. 

She wonders what he or she will look like. She imagines a head of dark hair and umber colored eyes. 

Ben. 

She has to tell Ben.  
-

That night she glues the test into a brand new scrapbook and debates telling Ben when he calls her but doesn't, because even as excited as she is, Leslie knows better than to spring this on him on the phone. 

So she makes him tell her about his glory days as JV shortstop.   
-  
Ben arrives at her house at a quarter to seven with a bag full of Thai takeout. The smell of the curry chicken hits her, sending a wave of nausea to roll through her. Unable to say a word, Leslie runs to the bathroom to vomit. She stays in there for a few minutes to be safe and then brushes her teeth and washes her face and hands.. When she comes out she finds Ben in the kitchen getting plates. She watches him as he moves around her kitchen with ease. 

Realizing she's starring, Ben turns around and grins at her. "Hey you. Are you okay?"

"Yeah," she says, though her voice is shaky to her own ears. 

"You sure? You're not sick are you?"

Leslie shakes her head. "Nope."

He walks up to her and puts his hand on her forehead. "Well, you're not hot." 

"Told you." She grins as she removes his hand. "So, what did you bring?"

"Uh, just some Phad Thai and Curry chicken."

"Yummy," Leslie says, leaning up to kiss him. 

Leslie eats dinner with some hesitation though. She sticks mostly with the Phad Thai, the smell of the curry still bothering her. Ben notices of course, and slides the box away from her. She wonders if he knows or at the very least suspects, so she excuses herself to go call Ann.

"You have to help me," she says as soon as Ann answers. 

"Why?"

"Because Ben is here and I got sick and he's being really nice and what do I do?"

"Tell him."

"Oh, Ann, you sweet and beautiful panda. I can't just tell him. What if he freaks out? What if he never wants to see me again? What if he accuses me of trying to trap him?"

"Do you really think Ben would do that?" 

Leslie sighs and kicks the bottom of the toilet. "No." 

"Leslie, just tell him and you'll figure it out together."

"Or, I don't tell him and then I give birth and he finds out then?"

"No." 

"Ugh, fine." 

When she comes out she finds Ben in her kitchen looking at his phone. He looks up at her and smiles. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, I'm okay. I just had to talk to Ann."

"How is Ann?"

Something in Leslie melts at Ben's genuine curiosity. Even though Ben hasn't met Ann yet, Leslie's talked so much about her he probably thinks of her as a friend already. She just hopes they actually get along. 

"She's fine," Leslie says before taking a deep breath. "There's something I need to talk to you about." She grabs his shoulders and walks him to the couch, pushing them down until he sits. He looks up at her with a raised eyebrow and a slight smirk. She's tempted to just sit in his lap and count his teeth with her tongue, but the nervous tremors in her stomach are way too much. 

"Okay, sit down." 

"I am sitting."

Right. Duh. "Okay." She sits on the edge of her coffee table and grabs his hand, clutching it in his. 

"Are you okay?"

"Do you remember that conversation we had about kids?" 

"Um, sort of. To be honest I was kind of distracted, but I think I said I wanted one someday."

"Did you mean it? Or where you just saying it because you had a naked woman in your bed and you thought it might help you get laid?"

Ben regards her for a moment, like he's not sure if he should be insulted by her comment or not. "I meant it. I want one, or more than one, or none, it all depends on what you, I mean what my future wife wants." 

His words still her for a moment, because they're so perfect she wants to break out into tears and sob into his shirt. 

So she does. He pulls her onto him, not seeming to care she's soaking his shirt with tears and snot as he rubs her back with talented fingers that soothe almost all of the tension she's been carrying between her shoulder blades for weeks. She stops crying and breathes in the scent of soap and cologne and skin. She doesn't know if it's hormones or him, but want surges through her, making her kiss the place where his neck and shoulders meet. 

"Leslie?"

She sits up, his hands still on her back. She blushes when she sees the dark wet spot on his shirt. 

"It's okay," he says, in a soft voice that leaves no doubt he's telling the truth. Still, she doesn't want it to be ruined so it's best to get it off before the stain sets in. At least that's the excuse she uses when he asks her why she's unbuttoning his shirt. She frowns at the white shirt underneath, but it looks wet too, so she might as well wash them too. And maybe his pants and boxers, just for the sake of making a full load. He grabs her hands, stopping her. 

"Your shirt."

"It's fine, Leslie," Ben says, pulling her forward. 

Her mouth collides with Ben’s and it's as if the whole world is suddenly ten shades brighter. His hands move up her back, tangling in her hair. He kisses her back with careful determination that makes her weak in the knees. When they break apart for air, Ben kisses her forehead before wrapping his arms around her in a tight hug. Even under his shirt she can feel the muscles underneath taut skin, the heat radiating off his body. 

"You're stalling." 

"Am not." She's a little annoyed he's calling her on it. 

"Whatever it is, you can tell me. Although I think I know." 

She blinks back more tears. "You do?"

"Yeah," Ben nods, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "You're quitting your job to go join the circus." 

Leslie laughs and hits his shoulder. "No."

"No? Okay then let me guess again. You've decided to stop eating sweets and are going on a vegetable only diet." 

"Don't joke about that." 

Ben just laughs at the dark tone in her voice. "Okay fine, I give up. What vexes my fair blonde maiden?"

Leslie squints at Ben. "Did you just say vexes?"

"Vexes, third person present of the word vex, a verb meaning to annoy or distress from the late middle English vexen-"

"I cannot believe I'm having your baby."

He stops, his mouth dropping open like he can't believe it, but then it closes and a slow smile spreads across his face. "Yeah?"

"Yes."

He nods. "Cool. I mean, if it's cool with you. Is it cool with you? I don't know, I mean I think it's cool but if you don't then whatever you decide that's cool with me-"

"It's very cool," she interrupts to save him. 

"Cool," he exhales, and then kisses her, on her lips and all over her face and down her neck. There's so much they need to talk about still, but he's such a good kisser and he's hot and it's not like they don't have time to figure the logistics out.   
-

He comes out of the bathroom wearing a pair of plaid pajama bottoms that sit low on his hips and nothing else. She puts her book down and watches as a water droplet travels from his neck down his chest toward the sun on his hip and swallows the need to sit on her knees and hook her fingers into his pants and pull them down. He gives her a grin like he knows what's on her mind and pulls a shirt out of his bag and slips it on before climbing into the bed next to her. Up close she can smell the mint on his breath and the fresh soap on his skin and she can't help it, she leans over and presses her lips against his neck, listening as he sighs. She pulls back and he turns his head, capturing her lips with his. The kiss is like a song, one that starts soft and slow but builds with each moment. She finds herself in his lap, unable to stop the urge to grind her hips as they make out, hands in each other's hair, sharing breath. 

She pulls away though, needing to breathe, needing to know. "What is this to you?"

Ben, as dazed as he looks, manages to keep his voice level. "You don't know?"

"I.." Leslie's sure this not the time to have this conversation but she's already asked so she shrugs. "I don't."

"Leslie, I told you I think I'm in love with you."

"Yeah, but guys say all kinds of things when they've just had sex and I just-" she stops when he shakes his head. 

"I meant it. In fact, now I'm sure I'm in love with you."

"Is it because of the baby because-"

"It's not," he says, rubbing her back. "I'm in love with you. And I know you're not there yet-"

Leslie opens her mouth to tell him that she is there, or at the very least on the cusp of it, but he raises his hand and stops her. 

"It's okay," he says. "The way I see it is I have the next thirty seven weeks to make you feel the same way."


End file.
